How Does it Feel?
by souled-angel
Summary: Buffy has been feeling strange feelings. Spike has been having the weirdest dreams. Spur of the moment, Spike prances off to Africa, and Buffy follows... only to fulfil a prophecy Angel was meant to be involved in...
1. Confusion

**A/N:** Okay, this is my first fictional thing. On Fan Fiction and about Buffy, that is. Uh… read on!

**DISCLAIMER:** All characters belong to Joss Whedon unless you aren't familiar with them of which when they will be MINE!

_This isn't really set at a specific time… If any I guess it's after Buffy comes back in the 6th season, when Tara is still alive and everything is peachy. Something that didn't happen is Spike's invite from Buffy's house was retaliated… he can't go in because Buffy was a little self-conscious after the whole 'coming back from the dead thing'. That and Xander and Willow thought he would try something on her in her vulnerable stage. Nothing has happened between Spike and Buffy. Yet._

Spike was having that dream again. The one where Buffy came to his door, crying. Something had happened… and she looked like she was in pain, but never did his dream let him know exact details. He always woke up panting, though he didn't breathe. The dream scared him, even though it was barely PG rated.

It all seemed so… prophetical. So real. He didn't understand why she was crying so hard, or why she had come to him instead of going to her Scoobie Gang.

All he understood was that it was Buffy. And it happened every night, and never revealed anything new.

He sighed and got of the tomb, walking over to his fridge and ripping the corner of a sachet of blood and devouring it.

He wiped his mouth and threw the empty sachet into a near-by corner. _Clean that up later_, he thought to himself.

Grabbing his leather duster from the couch, he withdrew a pack of cigarettes. He lit one, but just let it burn. He watched it curiously, so confused. Confused about his unlife, and the dreams he'd been having recently. Confused about why he felt such passion towards the Slayer and confused about himself as a Vampire.

He tilted his head and gazed at the fag. Watching it burn. He lifted it to his lips when it was about half way through and took a long hard drag. It softened the hard edges to his confusion for awhile. But not long enough. The pain came back in stabbing waves soon after.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, putting the cigarette out and throwing it to join the blood sachet.

Buffy threw an uppercut to one, then a roundhouse kick to the other. They growled at her, their ugly yellow eyes filled with fear of the Slayer. One of them licked its fangs.

"You think you're gonna taste me?" she laughed, staking it in the chest, "Taste yourself first."

She snorted then looked at the other one who was frowning, "Hey, I haven't punned for awhile!"

It smirked at her and she staked it, "Stupid vampire," she mumbled, as the dust fell to the ground.

She turned on her heel, and squelched to the next cemetery groaning.

"It HAD to be wet when I wore my new boots, didn't it?" she grumbled to herself, looking down at her new black leather boots, which were now spattered with dirt and blood. Her three-quarter denim pants had mud and grass stains and her white halter neck had blood and dust everywhere. She groaned again.

Trudging through the wet muddy grass, she past her mothers tombstone and stood at it for awhile.

_How did you ever get those stains out, mum?_ She asked the stone, longing to talk to her mum, just for a little while.

She sighed and turned off home, Dawn would want her to come home now, and Willow and Tara were out somewhere.

Reaching the front door she smelt smoke. Spike smoke.

"What are you doing here, Spike?" She asked him, and he stepped out from behind the tree.

"I was watchin' the little bit," he said in his English accent.

Buffy grimaced, "Eugh, Spike. You don't want to know what I'm thinking about _that_."

"No. Babysitting… from the outside…Seeing as I can't go in… I would _never_ hurt Dawn. You know that… don't you, love?" he asked her, tilting his head to the side and frowning softly.

She sighed, "I'd **hope** not. _Know_? Spike, I'll never **really** _know_ you. All I'll ever know is what you're capable of without the chip. I wish I could trust you more," she said, gazing into his blue eyes.

"Buffy…"

"And can you not smoke outside my house? I'm getting that stalker vibe… and it's starting to smell funny," she said, a mood working up.

He smiled at her, looking up into her eyes. She looked away. She could never stand that gaze. It was so… passionate. With so much meaning. There was so much confusion hidden in those eyes. So much she wanted him to reveal. Every time she saw that in his eyes, she was certain he could see into hers.

"'Night, Spike," She sighed, turning and walking into the house, without another word and closing the door, leaning against it momentarily before plodding up the stairs.

"Dawn?" she called out.

"In here," Dawn's voice came from the bedroom.

Buffy walked into Dawn's room to see her sitting in bed reading.

"Look at you, all reading and stuff," Buffy said, smiling at her sister.

Dawn giggled, "Was that Spike outside?" she asked, frowning.

Buffy sighed for the millionth time that night, "Yes."

"Why won't you let him come in? I mean, you've adjusted well enough now. You have control again. You aren't vulnerable, and even if you were, you know he wouldn't try anything," Dawn whined.

"Xander-"

"Oh Come **_ON_** Buffy! Xander is just _your_ excuse! He doesn't live here! He can not-invite Spike into his _own_ apartment! Please? Let him in again? He won't hurt _us_! He could… baby-sit me! Tara and Willow will want to get their own apartment soon anyway!" Dawn said, her eyes pleading.

"Dawn, I'm going to go have a shower. When I come back, I'll tell you what _I_ decide, okay?" Buffy replied, looking into her sister's eyes.

Dawn nodded, and went back to reading her book.

Buffy went into the bathroom, all her muscles aching and protesting to her every movement. Her right arm hurt so much, she thought it was slightly unnatural – but what in this world wasn't.

She peeled off her clothes and jumped into the steamy, hot shower. She was so confused. What the hell was she supposed to do? Not let Spike in because she was worried? She was acting so childish. And Dawn was being so mature. It was so … not normal.

Buffy picked up the shampoo and squeezed the last of it out, using her slayer-strength since she felt so weak. Normally fights with Vamps didn't take this much out of her.

She massaged it into her scalp, trying to figure out what to do about the Spike-issue.

Rinsing the shampoo out, she grabbed the conditioner. She squeezed it and nothing came out. So she used all of her remaining slayer-strength to use the last of it, feeling one of her muscles snap and instantly feeling the pain shooting up and down her arm.

She gasped, but continued to shower, hoping it would be better by the morning. Washing the conditioner through her hair, she came to a decision about Spike. Screw Xander. Spike wasn't the tiniest bit dangerous! He had a chip in his head and he didn't _want_ to drink human blood anymore.

Pain was shooting up her arm as she turned the shower faucets off. She cringed as she slipped on her underwear and 'yummy sushi' pajamas, which were hanging over the bathtub.

Her muscles groaned in protest, but she dropped to the floor and did twenty left handed pushups, to savor her sore arm.

When she was finished, she opened the door and walked down the Dawn's room, her sore arm desperately trying to heal itself but failing.

"Dawnie?" she whispered, pushing the door open with her left arm.

"Hmmm?" Dawn looked up from her book.

Buffy smiled, "Good book?"

Dawn nodded, returning her smile, "Made a decision 'bout the 'Spike issue'?"

Buffy sat on the edge of the bed, "I know Xander will _hate_ me trusting him-" Dawn opened her mouth to protest, "_But_," she continued, "Spike has become... almost family. He took care of you when I was gone… he _helps_ **us**, even though he's 'evil'. And he can protect us," Buffy said thoughtfully, ignoring the pain in her arm. Protect _us_. Protect Dawn _and_ Buffy.

Dawn smiled softly, "He also loves you…"

Buffy smiled, trying not to blush, "That too."

She wondered if Spike was still lurking outside, but thought better of it, "I'm going to bed," she said yawning.

"'Kay, see you in the morning," Dawn said, crawling over to Buffy and hugging her softly.

Spike watched Buffy's silhouette walk around her bedroom before her light finally clicked off. He wondered what she and Dawn had been talking about. He'd heard them talking seriously, but couldn't make out exact words.

He turned and walked to his crypt, lighting another cigarette.

_Smells funny_, she had said. He chuckled then threw the only recently lit ciggie into the gutter.

Reaching his crypt, he swung the door open and strutted over to his faded brown couch. He shrugged off his duster and hung it over the back of the couch.

Sitting down, he feared falling asleep. He may have that dream again. He got back up and picked up a sachet of blood. Drinking it slowly, this time. He followed the ripe coppery taste of the pig's blood as it ran down his throat. The thought of drinking human blood was becoming repulsive.

Sitting back on his couch, he downed the rest of the blood, and then threw it in the corner. He picked up a near-by piece of paper and a pencil and started to sketch Buffy.

He drew her face to perfection, adding everything. He made her ears exact and made sure she had that confused look in her eyes, when hers sometimes met his.

He drew that cute little frown-crease in her forehead and the mystery deep within her eyes. She always did this thing with her lips that he never got _quite_ right. He attempted it anyway, getting it _almost_ right again.

Soon he fell asleep, accidentally.

_BANG! BANG! Spike ran to the door, pulling it open. Buffy stood there, crying as if she were in agony. She looked up at him and cried harder._

"_Buffy… you okay?" he asked, watching her trying to stop crying._

_She gritted her teeth, muttering, "It hurts, Spike. You have **NO **idea how much it hurts!"_

"_Buffy? What hurts, love?" he asked her, trying to understand whether her pain was physical or mental._

_She opened her mouth and - _

Spike sat upright, panting with breath he didn't need.

"What the bloody hell is going on!" he shouted.

**A/N:** Leave reviews and I'll write another chapter. Reviews first though. I do promise more Spuffiness, but not for a little while.


	2. Invitations

**A/N:** Thank you for the reviews. Here's another chapter **:D**

----------

Buffy woke up, feeling the pain in her arm almost instantly.

She blinked and focused. Looking at her clock she saw that it was already 10am.

Frowning, she got out of bed and made her way to the kitchen.

Picking up a note Dawn must have left, she read:

_Dear Buffy_

_Guess I'm not seeing you this morning! You looked so peaceful… Xand is giving me a lift to school, Will and Tara are house hunting and Giles is at the Magic Box._

_Stay home today, okay? You've worn yourself out slaying and deserve the rest!_

_Love You_

_Dawn_

Buffy smiled. Stay home? She could do that. And also have some really strong painkillers for her arm.

She made sine cereal and had her painkillers then went upstairs to bed. It wasn't long before the painkillers knocked her out.

Buffy looked over at her clock. 1pm. She'd slept for more than three hours. She stretched and felt the stabbing pain in her arm. She gasped.

It certainly wasn't getting any better, but normally her slayer healing-powers would have kicked in by… yesterday. And they would have cured her by now!

She frowned, looking at her arm. She was just going to have to make do with the pain.

She hopped out of bed and wondered down to the basement, where she trained until she heard Dawn come home from school. She stopped attacking the punching bag and wondered up to meet her.

"Dawn?" she sung out up the stairs.

Dawn poked her head out from the kitchen, "Hey."

Buffy smiled, "Hey."

"Sorry I'm late… I went to the Magic Box for awhile after school," Dawn apologized.

"That's okay – Any new Big Bads in town?"

Dawn shook her head, "Just your usual I-hate-the-sunlight's."

Buffy nodded and sat down at the island. Dawn joined her.

"Patrolling tonight?" she asked.

Buffy nodded again, "Only one cemetery tonight – I've done something to my arm…"

Dawn frowned, "You okay?"

"Dunno. Slayer-healing is taking a little long to finish… Actually… its taking a little long to begin," Buffy said, looking towards her arm.

----------

Spike wondered across his crypt, then back again. He sniffed the air. Nothing. He was so bored.

_Oh well_, he shrugged, going to get another sachet of blood, _I'll just go watch Dawn when Buffy goes patrolling._

It confused Spike to hell that she wouldn't let him in her house… he would **NEVER** hurt Buffy _or_ Dawn! He thought she knew that.

He gulped down the blood then threw it in his recently-cleaned rubbish corner.

Spike wondered if Buffy would ever let him back in her house. It really scared him that she mighten.

He looked through the crypt's foggy window and watched it get dimmer as the sun went down. When the sun was out of sight all together, he picked up his leather duster and threw it around his shoulders.

Opening the crypt door, he strutted off in the direction of Buffy's hose, staking a few new vamps on the way.

----------

Buffy stepped into her black leather pants, and put on a tight red, long-sleeved shirt. She pulled on her leather jacked and her new boots which were still covered in mud from the night before.

"Dawnie?" she called out.

"Mmm?"

"I'm gonna go patrol. Will and Tara aren't back yet. I think they are staying in a hotel… So you're home alone, is that okay?" Buffy listened for a reply.

"Peachy," Dawn yelled back.

Buffy grabbed a stake from the weapons chest and put it in her inner jacket pocket, and grabbed another to hold.

She opened the door and walked to the cemetery.

Not many vamps were out tonight, so she turned home at 11pm. A branch cracked behind her and she spun around, stake hidden behind her back. Three ugly vampires stood smiley at what they though was a damsel-in-distress.

"'llo, have you seen-" before she could finish, one of them, who had a tattoo on his forehead, rushed her. She punched him and knocked him to the ground. Another with a scar on his face came sprinting over and she kicked him square in the gut. The final one, who had a Mohawk, came over slightly more cautiously, waiting for the others to get up.

Tattoo got up first, standing right in front of Buffy.

_Too easy_, she thought, staking him with her left arm.

Scarface and Mohawk look momentarily surprised before both coming at her. Buffy punched Scarface with her right arm, immediately hearing something snap in the already-injured arm.

"Ow!" she gasped, staking him quickly with her left hand.

Mohawk came at her, seeing the weakness in her arm. "Oh, go _AWAY_!" she yelled, accidentally punching him with her right arm and gasping again.

She staked him as soon as she recovered, then turned off home, the pain in her arm bringing tears that fogged her vision.

He arm limp beside her body, she reached for the door ignoring the Spike Smoke coming from behind the tree.

She closed the door with her right arm, immediately regretting the motion.

"Buffy… is that you?" Dawn's voice came from the bathroom upstairs.

"Yep. Just little old me," Buffy called back, glancing at her bruising arm and making her way to the kitchen.

"Let's see how much strength you can handle!" she said to her arm, knowing that Dawn would hear if anything bad happened.

She opened the fridge and got out a jug of water, immediately dropping and shattering it as the passed out and fell to the floor.

"Buffy?" That wasn't Dawn's voice.

Buffy twitched.

"Buffy, I really need you to invite me in. I have to check you're okay, love," the voice came again. The strong British voice. The Spike voice. "Nibblet is in the shower. She doesn't know you're hurt."

"Spike?" she groaned.

"Yeah, pet. 'S me."

"It hurts, Spike. You have _no_ idea how much it hurts!" she moaned.

"What hurts, love?" he asked, his voice tinted worry.

"My arm…" she opened her eyes, her vision slightly blurred, though not enough for her not to see Spike's frame pressed up against the invisible shield that kept him out, "Spike. Come in."

Spike stumbled inside the house, regaining his balance as he went to her.

He took one look at her arm and gulped, "Buffy… I'm gonna go tell Dawn you're hurt… see if she can find a first-aid kit. I'll be back soon, okay?"

She nodded gently and heard him plod off down the hall.

He was gone for ages, and when he finally came back, she felt relieved.

"Just tucked the bit into bed," he reported, "She was really excited to see me…"

She felt him lift her off the ground, feeling less like the slayer and more like the damsel-in-distress the vamps had thought of her as earlier.

"I'll take you to be, okay?" he asked, and she nodded and leant against him.

----------

She'd invited him in. Finally. Half the confusion swept away as he walked up those few last steps.

She'd passed out again on the way up. He wasn't sure what was wrong, but he _knew_ that this was the dream.

He laid her in her bed and pulled the covers up over her waist.

She moaned softly, but didn't protest. He knew in the morning that she'd be right-as-rain… or he hoped.

Slowly, he picked up the first-aid kit Dawn had left for him. Placing it beside Buffy, he saw she was in her jacket… Just to add that extra pinch of difficulty.

He pulled the leather coat off her left shoulder, taking care of her not-so-injured arm first. Then he moved to her right side, slipping the coat off as gently as inhumanly possible.

Buffy groaned, twitching. He looked down at her, filled with his own pain.

Once the jacket was slung over the end of the bed, he realized she had long sleeves on.

"Buffy, pet..." she twitched, "I have to take your shirt off…" he gestured to the shirt, "To get to your arm…"

"Dammit, Spike," she muttered fiercely, "Just make the pain go away."

He nodded; ripping the cottony, red material seeing as there was no other way. He looked at the arm and shuddered. It was dark purple from bruising, swollen from lack of immediate attention and obviously broken in one or two places, "Buffy…"

She winced when he touched it.

**Finally**, he noticed that she had only an almost transparent frilly black bra on, and **finally**, he noticed how much he _really_ cared for her.

---------

Spike picked up her arm gently, and began to wrap it in bandages.

Buffy's thoughts traveled to inviting him in. Then to the fact that she was only wearing a bra… she stiffened, causing the pain to shoot through harder and sharper.

"Love, relax. Can't make it go away if you do that," Spike said soothingly, and she _knew_ he'd never hurt her.

He finished with the bandages, which helped a lot with the pain.

"I'm gonna go now, pet. Okay?" he said, putting the first-aid kit in the corner.

She looked into his beautiful blue eyes trustingly, watching him leave her room, and then was interrupted by a sudden wave of heat. Her skin prickled and sweat poured off her. She felt sick and dizzy and unsure of what was screwing with her.

"Spike!" she whispered loudly, gasping for air, hoping his vampiric hearing was strong enough to her seeing as his vampiric speed had probably taken him to the front door by now.

He was with her within seconds, eyes wide, "Buffy… what's wrong," he asked, rushing to her side.

"Hot… god… I'm so hot," she gasped, gulping in air.

"I don't know what to do, love…" he said, "Vampires are cold as death – we don't…" within seconds he knew how to fix her sudden heat.

"Buffy…" he said warily.

"Spike… fix me… _please_!" she begged him, throwing off the covers, knowing his thoughts.

He nodded and shrugged his duster off. He took his shirt off and climbed into her bed.

She snuggled up against his naked chest, feeling almost instantly better. The coolness of his skin became exceedingly convenient.

He put his arm around her, in attempt to cool the front of her body. His hand was like ice, slowly rising over her stomach until it reached her bra, when it went back down. She picked up his hand and put it on her cheek, then her forehead, tracing her face.

----------

Spike was lost in infinite pleasure, the Slayer tenderly stroking her face with his hand. She rolled over, attempting to cool her front.

Spike accidentally let a moan escape his lips, but Buffy didn't notice. She was too busy trying to keep her temperature down.

He could feel her warmth, wishing he could help her more. He had no idea what had bought on her sudden temperature, but at the moment, he wasn't complaining.

Buffy sighed, softly shutting her eyes and snuggling closer to him. He put his arms around her instinctively.

She relaxed and slept. The best sleep she'd had in months.

----------

**A/N:** How's that? Now what in the world has made Buffy go all warm like that? If you have any interesting ideas of what _could_ happen, tell me… and also, please leave reviews and I'll write another chapter.


	3. Thankyou

**A/N:** Thank you for the reviews. Lets se how this chapter goes. Ignore logic. In this chapter, there are millions of little things that don't add up, but go with it. :D ok, here it comes.

And thank you very much for your reviews **Ultrawoman**, **Casey** and **Bridge**; it's you guys that keep fictions going.

* * *

Buffy's eyes fluttered open, and she tried not to change her breathing or sleeping patterns.

She was snuggled up against Spike's sleeping form. Pressed up against his chest, his arm draped around her protectively.

If he moved at all, he would be dust. Buffy flinched at this thought, waking Spike up, who stretched, lighting his right side on fire. Buffy reacted quickly, grabbing his arms and rolling him into the small square of shade in the middle of the bed, straddling him around the waist and sitting on top of him.

"Bloody Hell!" he winced, patting out the flames with help from the slayer, who was ignoring the horrible pain in her arm as she examined his burns.

"You okay?" she asked, putting out the last of the fire.

"Soddin' bloody…" he muttered through gritted teeth, his flesh burns obviously stinging his pale self something horrid.

* * *

She frowned, tracing her fingers lightly over the wounds. Spike shuddered under her touch, looking up at her.

She traced her hand from the top of his right thigh, which had burnt away his pants, to his stomach.

Spike groaned under her warm touch, as her hand traveled up to his breast. Her fingers lightly brushed his nipple before traveling to his neck, and then to his face, which was half un-recognizable. She traced her fingers up his cheek and around his blue eyes.

Spike moaned, without the control of stopping himself. He closed his eyes, feeling her weight on him.

"You okay?" she repeated, setting both hands down on his stomach.

"Didn't have to do that, pet," he mumbled.

"Yes I did," she replied, "I need you… you're needed and… well… I don't fancy sleeping on a pile of Spike-remains much."

Spike smiled softly. He looked around the room and noticed that sun lit all of it, apart from the small slice of shade he was currently pinned to.

Buffy had noticed it too, revealing a huge portion of her neck as she turned around, her hips grinding against his.

Spike gulped, trying to keep under control, but his face threatened to morph and his stomach was gurgling. He could feel that his lower regions were betraying him too, and it took all that he had not to curse and run for a cold shower.

Buffy hadn't noticed. He didn't think, until she dismounted him.

"Looks like you're here all day…" she said, looking at the curtain-less windows, "I'm gonna go make breakfast, okay?"

"Love, I don't –" but she was gone before he could say anything.

He looked down and sighed, "Bleedin' Hell!"

* * *

Buffy finished in the kitchen and walked back upstairs to her room with an over sized tray, when she heard Spike groan. She put the tray down quickly and rushed inside to see him busily… _entertaining_ himself.

"Oh GOD!" she exclaimed, backing out of the bedroom and slamming the door in attempt to get his attention.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god!" Buffy muttered, pacing back and forth in front of the door, "Oh, SHIT!"

A few minutes later, she opened the door, coming in with the tray. She felt his eyes on her, but refused to meet them. Instead, her gaze was fixed on the carpet.

"Buffy…"

"Spike."

"I didn't-"

"Didn't mean to masturbate?"

He tilted his head, gazing at her when she finally met his eyes.

"I can't help hormones, love," he muttered.

"Yeah, Spike, but in **my** room? Come on!" she whined, "For gods sake! I am _so_ never getting _that_ image out of my head!"

"Slayer…"

"Let's just see what's on the breakfast menu then, shall we?" she asked bitterly, thrusting the tray forward.

Spike's vampiric sense no sooner detected blood than he saw it. Dark and red and in a pretty crystal jug.

* * *

He frowned at the blood, "Where did you get _that_?"

She looked like she'd just found out that her mum knew about her sneaking out to the Bronze at midnight after specific orders not to.

"Uh… leftovers I guess," she shrugged, trying to play it cool.

She handed him a glass, taking some bacon to chew on for herself.

He sipped the blood, tasting the sweet metallic taste before he choked, seeing blood leaking threw the bandage that covered her injured arm.

"Buffy!"

"What?"

"This is yours, you stupid bint!" he accused, holding up the glass angrily.

"No its not!"

"Well then how do you explain the leaking?" he asked, pointing to her blood stained bandage.

"I-"

"And GOD! It's the best bloody stuff I've ever had! Have you tasted you? Don't even get me **started** on how it smells. God. Vampire like me? Could get high on _this_ within seconds," he said, lifting his eyebrows.

"It's not much…" she muttered, blonde hair falling over already flushed face.

"It's a whole soddin' jug!" he hissed.

"It was a 'thank you' present."

He looked at her, blue eyes filled with questions.

"Yesterday. You fixed me. Twice! When my arm was crappy _and_ when I was hot!"

"You're always hot, love," he told her and she looked away, memories of the few previous minutes flooding back, "'sides, I think inviting me in was as bigger **_thank you_** as ever!"

He noticed that she stood at the foot of the bed, chewing on a piece of bacon, while he was confined to the small rectangle of shade in the centre of the bed.

He patted the bed, "Come, sit."

She crawled up the bed, sitting next to him and pulling the tray closer, "You are _SO_ washing my sheets."

* * *

At midday, Buffy was still keeping him company. She'd called the Magic Box, where Xander, Giles and Anya were, just to check there was no demonic activity. Then Willow and Tara had called to say that they'd found an apartment, which meant more Buffy time – thank god.

Spike had fallen asleep next to her while she was on the phone, and she didn't have the heart to wake him. Instead, she watched him sleep, making sure he didn't roll anywhere or anything.

She looked at him and wondered _why_ **he** liked **her**. Wondered why he cared at all.

He turned in his sleep, lighting his right arm. Buffy patted off the fire with her good arm, watching as he winced in the deep sleep that he was in.

She reached behind herself and picked up the moisturizer.

Squeezing a generous amount on her hand, she began at his thigh, ripping the remains of the right side of his pants off. She saw that he had already started healing, unlike herself. She massaged the cream into his leg and worked up to his stomach.

She creamed his chest, arm and neck then worked up to his face, shocked to find him still asleep from all the moans he had given.

She went in slow circles around his face, straddling him around the waist to get a better angle.

She went back down to his chest, massaging it with her good arm.

"Buffy? What you doing?" Spike mumbled.

Buffy jumped slightly at his voice, "I'm making your burns better, silly."

Spike smiled.

Buffy looked down into his eyes, and with a sudden rush of emotion, leant down and kissed him.

His eyes widened in shock, "What you doing?" he asked into her mouth.

She pulled back, hurt, "I… nothing…" she mumbled, dismounting him and leaving the bedroom.

* * *

He'd been calling her for almost and hour now. Then he shrieked and she was beside him in a matter of seconds.

"What? What's wrong? What happened?" she asked him.

"You wouldn't come in."

She sighed, "Dammit, Spike! I'm embarrassed. Leave me be," and with that, she span on her heal and walked out.

Frowning, he jumped out of bed and sped across the room, sunlight be damned, down the hall and to the bathroom, where he was partially on fire.

"Spike!" she gasped, turning on the shower and shoving him under it without a second thought.

The flames all sizzled out, smoke wisping off him.

"What the _hell_ did you do that for?" she screamed.

* * *

A/N: How was that? If anyone has any suggestions, please don't hesitate to tell me them via review… thank you.

Please review if you liked it, because I will be forced to stop writing if no-one does :-(


	4. I Love You

**A/N:** Thanking you all again for the reviews – I'm glad you like. It's pretty cool to come online and see all the reviews. Makes me feel all warm inside.

**spikegothicchick:** Thanks! Heres more!

**spikestar:** glad you liked it:D

* * *

Spike sizzled under the shower, "Love, S'not a kiss and run game."

Buffy frowned, waving away the smoke, "It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. You're a soulless monster and I would never in my _right mind_ kiss you!" she said folding her arms.

Spike smiled.

Then Buffy had a thought, "Why'd you say no?"

Spike's smile faded instantly, "'Coz I know you'll regret it, pet."

Buffy's heart broke. Tore in half. Shattered. Wilted.

She looked at him carefully, wondering if he meant it. She tilted her head and gazed into his eyes, trying to read them. All that she could read was love.

She almost cried. She almost fainted. She almost died all over again. She looked into those beautiful blue eyes and saw beyond that tough-guy routine he pulled. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she held them back, just a crystal glitter remaining seen.

Spike mimicked her tilted head, a confused look on his face, "Buffy. I love you. It's not just words you say to someone to shag 'em or get off on the look they get in their eyes. I love you. It's something you say to show you care. To show that you're there. Hell, loving you is like loving a bleedin' brick wall. It's crazy, it's insane, and it's weird. But I'll tell you what… it's also bloody brilliant. Watching you… you aren't just Buffy the Vampire Slayer to me. You're a magnificent young woman," he said, a slight frown on his face but a sparkle in his eyes.

This times, tears poured down her cheeks like the water from the shower faucet was pouring over Spike.

He noticed the waste of water dribbling down him and turned it off quickly, looking back to her.

He put a finger under her chin and lifted it, "Buffy, when I say I love you, I'm not saying it to get in your pants. Just to let you know I care. To let you know, that…" he sighed and looked closer at her, "To let you know that you are the only woman in my life that can ever make me feel like this."

She sobbed quietly, gaze on the floor, and he pulled her into his embrace.

He hugged her and kissed her hair, but didn't try anything more. A perfect gentleman, he just held her as she cried. And somehow, it seemed better than anything else that they could have done together.

* * *

The sun went down and Spike had finished the blood Buffy had shed for him. It was the least he could do seeing as there was no way he could return it too her politely.

She had watched him with interest and he drank it, trying not to morph.

Buffy sat in her bed, bandaged arm in lap, watching him pace at the end of the bed, wearing only half a pair of burnt-away pants.

"Whatcha doin'?" she asked him, legs crossed.

He looked up, "I'm… I'm not very sure myself, pet."

She smiled, and then frowned quickly.

"Buffy? You okay?" he could feel the heat radiating off her again.

She moaned, "Its back, Spike…"

He walked over to the bed and sat, pulling her into his lap. He wrapped his arms around her, in attempt to keep her temperature from shooting sky-high.

She cooled down faster this time, but still sweat. She then began to shiver uncontrollably and he frowned, laying her in bed and pulling the covers over her.

He tucked her in tightly, and watched as she drifted off to sleep. This whole 'temperature' problem really was the Powers messing with his head.

* * *

Buffy yawned and looked around. She saw no Spike anywhere. Glancing around she saw the chair in the corner that he must have slept in, and the duster that he clung to like it was his only source of unlife, but no Spike.

Frowning, she looked around the room. Where the hell was he?

She couldn't sense any near-by vampires, which was a really bad sign… Jumping out of bed she grabbed his Duster, and she sprinted down to the kitchen, which was as empty as the rest of the house.

On the island lay a note. It was written in 19th Century writing and she immediately knew it was his.

_Buffy, _

_I know that you're gonna be worried 'bout me, but I'm fine. Just taken a little trip to clear my head._

_I hope that you understand. I will be back tomorrow. Hopefully._

_I love you. Always remember that, huh?_

_William_

Buffy's fingers traced the name he had left on the paper. _William_. She sank to her knees. Tears fell down her cheeks as she read it again. _William_. Why was he not here!

She cried and cried, letting out all the tears possible as she tried to figure out why he was gone.

Had she said something to make him leave? She read the letter again. _I will be back tomorrow. _Her eyes filled with more tears. _Hopefully_. Had he gone to dust himself? Where the hell was he?

_William_.

Buffy got up off the floor, roughly rubbing her eyes, grinding out the tears, throwing his Duster over her shoulders.

_Clear my head_.

She grabbed the paper and walked outside into the sunlight, trying to sense the nearest Vampire presence but realising soon after that he wouldn't be close if he had left at dark.

_I'm fine_.

She sprinted down the street, and onto the main road, running in the direction of Sunnydale Airport, duster flailing out behind her.

_Little Trip._

Trying to recall the night's events, she couldn't remember any thing she had said.

"_You're a soulless monster and I would never in my _right mind_ kiss you!"_

"Oh GOD!" she whispered, running faster. He hadn't taken that harshly at the time, but what if Spike was thicker than she had thought.

_Understand_.

"Understand. My. Ass. Spike!" she said through gritted teeth as she ran down the road, swerving and avoiding cars that only saw her as a blur.

_William_.

Tears streamed down her face as she finally reached her destination.

_I love you._

She bolted inside and up to the desk, where, luckily, no-one was lined up.

_Always remember that._

"Excuse me?" Buffy panted at the person behind the desk.

They looked up at her.

"Did a man in his late twenties with bleached hair and very very prominent cheek bones happen to come here this morning?" she asked quickly.

_I'll be back tomorrow._

"Actually… I wasn't on duty this morning…" the woman said.

"Well... can you tell me who was?"

"Rosemary. She's at the next desk, possum," she replied, pointing over to a frizzy haired woman in the desk across from her.

_Hopefully_.

Buffy thanked her quickly then ran across to Rosemary.

""Scuse me… did a man with peroxide blonde hair happen to come here this morning?" Buffy said, her voice having a slightly desperate edge to it.

"He asked me not to tell anyone where he was going…" Rosemary said, blushing.

"Please!" Buffy begged, "He's… he's my fiancé, and if I don't find him, I could lose him forever!"

Rosemary gave her a sympathetic look, "Africa, dear. He went to Africa."

_Tomorrow_.

Buffy's jaw dropped open. Africa?

"You need to see him, don't you? Something happen?" Rosemary asked, tapping away at her computer.

"He loves me… and I need to tell him that he isn't soulless… or a monster… and that with time, I've-" Buffy stopped herself and looked up at Rosemary.

The frizzy woman looked up at her with caring brown eyes as she held out a ticket, "I know I'm putting my job at risk again, but, dear, just go."

_I love you._

Buffy looked at the ticket, then at Rosemary.

"Thankyou," she said, taking the ticked and knowing that she would pay her back somehow.

_William._

Buffy sprinted towards the gate of the boarding plane.

_I love you._

* * *

A/N: Now, I know that was uncalled for, but I needed a twist! The story was to straight forward. I was actually gonna dust Spike on the spot, and make Buffy go insane or something, but I thought that I could twist and twirl the story a little, and made him run off to Africa.

Hope everyone liked the wackiness… I don't know if it fit much…

Hows that for one day? I updated all of my fics!

Please review – and any suggestions are welcomed with open arms.


	5. Freedom Again?

**A/N:** Thank you for the reviews! I realize that this fic is a little confusing… but I have to keep it interesting!

**spikestar**: Thanks! It's nice to know that you like it!

**spikegothicchick**: So I'm thinking you're liking it then? Lol.

* * *

Buffy got off the plane as fast as possible. The whole trip she had been figiting in her seat or taking bathroom trips. She was so nervous she was throwing up at regular intervals, and as much as she hated it, she couldn't care less.

She ran through the airport, perfectly aware that she was wearing a pair of leather pants with a practically invisible bra and long leather duster. She hadn't even done her hair, so she feared what she looked like. Spike was only wearing half a pair of pants. That was all. She smiled slightly as she ran, note clasped in hand.

Jogging through the metal detector machines, she winced when they went off. If she took any part of her clothing off, she was as good as naked.

"Miss? Could you please…"

Buffy stuck her hand in the pocket of the duster and pulled out Spike's silver lighter. She shoved it into the hands of the airport people who frowned at her for having it at all, let alone bringing it on the plane.

She snatched it back as soon as they had confirmed that it was the lighter that had set off the alarm and sprinted away.

She heard people calling her back for further examination, but she wasn't stopping for anything.

She sprinted outside into the fading sunlight, trying to smell him, sense him, feel him – anything to show her where he was.

For some reason, her legs started running almost by themselves, her body following-suit. Her mind had no idea where she was going, but her heart really seemed to. Her heart was what was leading her and her heart was what she was relying on.

Sprinting round a few more corners and down a few more roads she came to a track. A thin, rocky, dirt road that was barely visible to the human eye.

Taking a deep breath, she walked through the bushes that stood in her way and onto the track, where she resumed her sprint. She ran down the track, coming to a halt when she found a small camp.

She walked down the camp aisle slowly, watching the people that were watching her, a deep knowing in their eyes.

She frowned at their knowledge, but kept walking, soon after coming to a magnificent cave. It was huge, and had an opening the size of three doorways.

She walked inside, heart pounding harder than ever before. Harder than when the Master was about to kill her, Harder than when she had told Angel she'd loved him, and Harder than when she knew that she was going to have to die to save the world for Dawn.

She gulped and walked further into its welcoming darkness. She was swallowed by shadows as she walked further into the depth.

"Buffy Summers," a deep booming voice came.

Buffy immediately took fighting stance, head whipping around in search of who had spoken.

"The Vampire Slayer," it came again. She looked for the voice, eyesight deceiving her in the shadows.

"Yeah? What do you want?" she yelled into the darkness.

"You need answers. You need to find him?"

Buffy frowned, "Can you help me?"

"William came. He wanted something back. Something he didn't have before."

Buffy's heart raced. The chip. He didn't have that before. He wanted the freedom back. But why? Had her reliance on him become to much to handle?

"Find him, before he ruins himself."

She didn't need to be told twice; she got up and sprinted away, her heart trying its hardest to lead her to him.

She sprinted again. Sprinted to a lake, where she stopped. On the lake was a small church. She didn't know what she was doing. Spike wouldn't have come to a church. It wasn't what William the Bloody would do…

She stepped cautiously towards it. Could her heart have deceived her? Could her mind have been controlling the direction?

Inside the church she could smell burning. She sighed. Just her slayer senses playing up on her.

She jogged inside to save whatever innocent was left, but saw no-one inside. Then she noticed him. Down the aisle. Right in front of her. Hugging the cross.

"Spike?" she said in a near-whispered voice. Tears sprang to her eyes as she watched him burning, just stood and watched the smoke wisp off him as she had only hours previous.

He acknowledged her presence. But he didn't turn to greet her or say anything at all.

She ran forward and tore him off the cross with her left arm, only just remembering the injured one.

She looked at him. Really looked at him, into his eyes. And then she saw the glow. Then she saw the soul.

**

* * *

A/N: Okay. Now this story is really starting to suck… does anybody else like it? I'll keep it going if anyone likes it. It's taken a turn and I'm not sure whether its for the better or worse… please tell me what you think. Seriously - and suggestions are welcome.**


	6. Soul

**A/N:** Okay. Went bowling today, so not enough time to update all my fics, but hey…

**spikestar:** Really? Thank you!

**spikegothicchick:** Lol. You got it.

**funkydevil206:** more it is!

**sweetdrop:** Will do.

* * *

"Spike… what did you do?" Buffy asked him, her eyes still wide as they looked into his.

"Did what I should have done soon as I was turned."

Buffy frowned, so he elaborated, "Buffy. Do you know how many I killed? How many I tortured to death? Hundreds. Hundreds of hundreds! And now… it's too hard. I can't. End it. Please!" He begged her, showing her his bare chest, and closing his eyes.

He wanted her to stake him, she realised suddenly. Stake _him_. Stake _Spike_. Stake the_ soul_.

"Spike…" she whispered. He dropped to his knees in front of her and she sat in front of him, taking him in her arms and holding him close to her as he settled into her embrace.

He was still warm from where he had burnt himself, and it felt almost as though he were alive. Tears poured down her cheeks and she put her head down on his shoulder.

"Thankyou, Spike. Thankyou so much," she sobbed and they sat together in the middle of the church, together.

* * *

After inviting him in, Buffy helped Spike as he limped through the chipped wooden-doorframe into the cheap hotel room that she had hired. She kept looking at him and seeing… almost a glow. She could almost _see_ the soul. She knew it was crazy, but there was just something there…

She laid him on thedouble bed which sat to the left of the small room, and watched as his body healed. She could feel her arm trying to heal itself again, this time with slight success. _Finally_, she thought to herself.

She walked over to the dirty sink, grabbing a face cloth and dampened it with warm water, then walked back over to Spike and kneeled at his side, slowly washing the cloth over his newer burns.

She looked into his eyes as he watched her moving the cloth around him. He shuddered under her touch and she shuddered watching him shudder.

She looked into his eyes and saw the soul all over again.

She looked into his eyes and saw the person she had wanted him to be from Day One. He gazed back at her, and she knew he was trying to know what she was thinking. She wasn't going to tell him. She was just going to look straight back at him and hope that he never figured it out.

His blue eyes looked at her so intently, that she could feel him reading her.

Fresh tears sprang to her own as she looked at the life that hadn't been there before. The guilt. The sorrow.

But at the same time, he looked so angelic. So perfect.

She never wanted to leave him. No words could explain how beautiful he looked right now, and then.

"You're beautiful," she whispered to him, bringing the cloth up over his chest.

She saw a smile tickle his lips, "Vampires can't be beautiful, love."

"You aren't a vampire, Spike. You're a man."

**_

* * *

A/N: Okay. I didn't want this chapter to be so… short… but I had to end it there. I had to show you how Buffy saw him with his soul. After what he'd done for her._**

Please review, Any suggestions are welcome.


	7. Alive

**A/N**: Not the end. Not the end for a long, long, long time.

**spbangel:** Thanks for your review – update is on the way!

**spikegothicchick:** Thanks! Glad you like!

**Ebbagull:** Thanks! Heres more!

**maryncassybff16:** It's not ending there. There are a lot of surprises to come. Want to throw some suggestions my way? I'm open.

**Casey:** Update I will.

Hope everyone likes – thankyou to the above people for their reviews, without you guys, I wouldn't be writing. It's people like you that keep fan fictions going. Thankyou

* * *

"You aren't a vampire, Spike. You're a man."

Spike tilted his head. So many emotions rushing around his body at once. He could feel the soul, burning at his body. He could feel the stinging of his recent burns as Buffy washed the cloth over him.

"M'Not a man, love."

Buffy looked at him, then got up. He watched curiously as she walked over to the kitchen-like premises, picking up a knife.

Fear swelled inside him and she cut across her hand, looking at him as she did so. He was too weak to do anything but watch.

She walked over to him, her expression unreadable, "Blood. It keeps me alive. It keeps you alive. It keeps us alive. In different ways, sure, but in the end, it's all the same."

She sat down next to him, taking his hand and slicing it open. He winced and looked at her, frowning.

"All the same," she repeated, grabbing his bleeding hand in her own and mixing their blood together.

She had done this before, mixed his blood with hers. Not intentionally. Normally during a fight or what not, but at the time, he hadn't felt anything half as magnificent as what he was feeling at the moment.

He looked down at their hands, which wear almost glowing. She too was looking at them in a state of shock.

"What the bleedin'," Spike frowned further. Then all of a sudden he gasped. He felt like he'd been under the water for far too long. Then he realized what it was. He was alive.

He began to pant, familiarizing with the faint feeling of his heart beating.

"Oh god. Spike… are you…"

"I'm… alive," he finished, looking up into her eyes, his own filled with fear.

Her eyes widened, and she tilted her head, she turned towards their hands, "All the same…" she mumbled, watching the blood leak from their palms.

Spike watched her reacting to his living, breathing softly. The Powers That Be better not be screwing with them. If this were only a trick it was harsh. Buffy looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears.

"Buffy…"

"I have to call Giles."

She got up and left him, and he felt a twang of emptiness. At first it was only a twang, but soon it became a throbbing pain. His heart felt like it was going a hundred miles and hour and _he_ felt like someone was stabbing him with a jagged knife. Suddenly, she was by his side.

"What was that?" she gasped.

"What, love?"

"You… didn't feel it? The pain?"

Spike's eye's widened. It was only something he'd read about. Only fiction. False. Myths. He looked straight at her, "You felt that?"

She nodded.

"_You_. Felt that?"

Again, she nodded, raising an eyebrow.

"You… Buffy… Uh… The blood… yours and mine… In… well… it's said that when a slayer… _the_ slayer mixes her blood with…that of a vampire's… it's like a ritual… it's supposed to be a myth… but-"

"I've mixed my blood with plenty of Vampires. Nothing like this has ever happened before-"

"You've never intentionally given another vampire your blood and had them give you theirs in return."

Buffy fell silent.

"It's supposed to make me human… make us… vampires… human… Look, love… it's a binding spell… I have… well… _you_ in me now. Anything that you feel… I assume… I feel."

"But I… meant to… I… no. This isn't happening. This is so twisted… and wrong. Bad, bad, bad. This isn't good. Not good," she babbled to him, throwing her hands around in emphasis.

Spike tilted his head, "Buffy… This is huge. Love… I'm alive."

* * *

A/N: I am SO sorry I made you guys wait so long! I didn't realize I hadn't put this chappie up! I'm stuck in a good book and my internet is being really unreliable

You like Buffy? Watched it all and want more? Read Queen of the Slayers – Nancy Holder. Its continuation from season seven. Its bloody amazing!

Please review ;)


	8. Indestructible

**A/N:** Okay, wow. I swung that so heavily. I'm just going to fix it up…

**funkydevil206**: I have no idea what's happening next…

**spbangel**: Sorry bout the wait!

**PyroChilde:** Hope you like the update. It's taken forever. I had no idea what to do.

* * *

"Spike. You can't be alive. You're dead," she said to him, forcing a laugh. 

He frowned and looked up at her, "Not anymore, pet."

For the first time, she noticed his burns were gone. His cuts, his burns and his other wounds. They couldn't be gone. They were there, fresh as anything just moments ago.

"You're… you're healed…" she whispered to him.

He looked down at himself. "So I am…"

Buffy frowned. Everything was turning around. Spike was… human. Alive. Healed. With a soul. She tilted her head. This wasn't meant to be this way. It was all wrong.

"I'm calling Giles."

Spike nodded, still looking over his healed body. "Yeah, pet… you do that. Call old Watcher."

Buffy smiled shortly before fleeing the room.

* * *

Buffy hurriedly dialed Giles' number. She was shaking so much it was amazing that she could actually punch in the digits. 

It rang once. Twice. Three times before Giles picked up.

'_Probably cleaning his glasses,'_ Buffy thought to herself. She smiled slightly at the joke. She never made jokes anymore. Not since…

"Hello?"

"Giles. It's Buffy."

"Buffy? Thank god! We've been so worried about you. I called you house and you weren't there, so I tried your cell phone, and…" he trailed off.

"I'm sorry, Giles… I just… I'm in Africa."

The silence on the other end of the line was deafening.

"Hello?"

She almost heard him cleaning his glasses.

"Uh… May ask… why you are in Africa?" he asked. She smirked. She knew that tone. It was his 'I can be calm' tone. It was _too_ calm for her.

"I… I followed Spike here. He came to get something back."

Giles fell silent once again.

"His soul…"

"Buffy, my silence was because I understood."

"Oh."

She waited a second before drawing in a breath and letting it out slowly. He spoke first.

"That's not all… is it?" he asked her.

"No."

Again, silence filled their call.

"He's… Spike… Spike's human, Giles…" Buffy said. This time she expected silence, but instead, she heard laughter. She frowned. He was laughing loudly. Like someone was tickling him. Or something.

"You did it, didn't you?" he said, still chuckling, "Mixed your blood? Said the words?"

She didn't reply.

"Silly girl. Do you know what you've done?"

"I'm sorry Giles. I just… I didn't know that's what would happen! He went and got his soul and I could see it! It was so… there! Right in front of me. It was in his eyes, in his walk, even in his voice. And he was talking… and I-"

"You created a male slayer?"

She swallowed. "No…"

"Yes. You mixed your blood with that of the souled undead. It means… well, technically, it means Spike is a male slayer… with certain advantages that you don't have. Yet."

"A slayer? Advantages? Giles… what?"

"He's life is still eternal. Forever. But he breathes and lives the life of a human. He has a conscience, so he feels the pain of death the same as you and me. He can walk during the day – in the sunlight. He can hurt, but recover fast, and he feels. Everything. Everyone. He can feel them all. Or who he chooses to feel. I'm not quite clear on that. Since Angel left I assumed the prophecy was left unfulfilled."

"So… Spike's an immortal superhero guy. Good for Spike. But what I don't get is the me-not-having-the-advantages-**_yet_** thing. Will I become perpetual too? Will I be able to do the wacky 'feel' thing? And how?" Buffy's forehead creased.

"Look… I don't really know. This was supposed to happen with Angel as far as I can tell. I really don't know all the details. But I know a few things. Firstly, You can become immortal. If you choose. Spike shares your blood now, correct? He shares your feelings because he shares your blood? You have a pull to each other. Am I correct in saying that you ache without him?" Buffy nodded numbly before remembering that he couldn't see her.

"I do."

"In a way, you are mated to him. As he is to you. Though, that is the minor of the situation. If you take his blood, you will become eternal."

"I took his blood... When he took mine," she said slowly, barely following what Giles was telling her.

"His blood wasn't slayer blood at the time. Now… it is. I don't know if you understand, but he is, at the moment, both Vampire and Slayer. He has phenomenal strength and speed, and his senses are more acute than before. He feels when demons are near, just as you do. Like I said, he is a Slayer now. But he is also a Vampire. If I'm not wrong, he may have had warning about this happening."

"Warning! That _son_ of a-"

"No, no, no! A dream. Just a hint of something that could lead up to this…" she heard pages being flicked, figuring Giles had 'Hit the Books' once again.

"So… for me to be _as_ powerful as **him**… I have to take some of _his _blood?"

"No."

"No?"

"You would be far more powerful. You possess far more Slayer blood that way, plus your 'bonus' hint of Vampire blood. You would be… well, the only word for it is indestructible," Giles sighed.

"Wouldn't this save the world? Why hasn't anyone tried it?"

"There were never any souled demons for a Slayer to blend with. Apart from Angel… but only you and the gypsy women were aware of his soul. Believe me, if it had been possible, it would have been done," he told her. Thoughts were rushing through her head. So much was going on. It was so confusing.

"Also… it would have made the vampire-slayer-guy really really strong… so he could... destruct..."

"He would have had a soul, Buffy."

"People with souls can be evil! Ethan Rayne? Mayor Wilkins? _Principal Snyder_!"

Giles chuckled softly on the other end, "Okay. Well, now you know the deal."

She chewed her lower lip. This was all so… huge. Unbelievably huge, and impossible. And… expensive.

"Oh shit. Giles? I'm in Africa… this call is going to cost a tonne. I have to go."

"Is there a number I can reach you on?" he asked softly.

She read out the number that had been stuck on the phone, feeling that it would have to be the room telephone number.

"Thank you, Buffy."

"Wait! Giles, do I do it? Do I mix my blood with his?"

"It's really up to you. But remember… Forever would be a really long time."

"Forever is overtime," she agreed, "But since when would it be forever?"

"You would be immortal. You would be… un-killable. Like I said. You would be indestructible."

* * *

**A/N:** Ahhh! I am so sorry for not writing for so long! I just kept doing my other fictions – I had no idea what to write for this storyline! 

Please give me suggestions… in the form of reviews of course ;) Every writer loves reviews… You reviewers keep the writers-a-writing. Thank you for your continuous support through my fictions.


	9. Feeling

**A/N**: Not the biggest response to that chapter, but to the people that reviewed – you are champions. You're the ones helping me with ideas for this fiction and you're the ones that are keeping it going. Thank you so much.

**spbangel**: Thank you. I'm sorry about the updating delays

**funkydevil206**: Thank you. I hope you like this chapter!

* * *

Buffy dropped the phone on the desk, practically frozen in place. Numbly, she walked back into the bedroom, and stood over Spike.

"What did the watcher have to say, sweet?" he asked when she returned.

She looked at him before climbing onto the bed, on top of him and laying her head against his naked chest, listening to his heart beat.

The duster fanned out around her and over him as she lay on him.

* * *

Her half naked form was on top of him as suddenly as she had been in the room. Her black lace bra was still the only garment she had covering her top half – but he wasn't complaining.

Slowly, he reached up and stroked her hair. He swept it away from her face, looking down when the first teardrop touched his bare flesh.

"What's wrong, Slayer?" he asked softly.

Her form shook with sobs, pressed up against him, shaking his too. "You're…" she didn't finish the sentence. She just kept crying. And all he could do was lie there like a bloody pillock.

"Shhh…" he soothed, "S'Okay, love. What ever it is, s'okay."

Her arms slid out of the duster and around his body, leaving the leather item of clothing splayed out over them like a blanket.

"Giles…" she sobbed quieter now, but his chest still held the tears, "Giles said… that you're… a Slayer."

Spike frowned, "So… what does that mean for me?"

"You're…" she didn't look at him. Rather… she had her eyes closed tightly. "A slayer… and a vampire…"

Her eyes slowly opened and she looked at him. "You have slayer blood now. A soul, a conscience, a freaky feeling-what-other-people-feel thing, and all that…"

Spike's expression softened. "You're immortal."

She looked at him sharply. "No… you are. It's just prophetically true that… I… will be."

"I'm sorry, love."

"It's not your fault…" she wiped her tears away and propped herself up on his chest.

He tilted his head and brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes. "Somehow… it really is."

Leaning in slowly, her lips brushed his. She felt him draw back slightly. "What now?"

"It's just… you might think I'm taking advantage of you. Tomorrow. Don't get me wrong. I sure as hell want… you. But…"

Buffy shook her head. "But nothing. Take advantage. Please? I need you now. More than ever. I'm scared Spike. I'm going to be here forever. All I have to do is say the word… and I'm little miss everything."

"I know."

"Oh. That's right. You can feel me…"

"Yeah… It's amazing, love. I can feel…" His eyes snapped up to hers, "What is that?"

She looked away. "Nothing. Turn it off now. Stop feeling."

"Is that love?"

"No! It's nothing!"

He stuck his finger under her chin and turned her towards him, trying to figure out what she was feeling.

"Lust? Longing?" he guessed. Then his eyes widened.

She curled up on his chest again, trying to ignore him.

"Fear? Why are you scared?"

"Spike… I'm always scared…" she whispered.

"Love… you're so scared right now… if you weren't the slayer you would have died of a panic attack."

She shivered and he brought his arms around her under the duster. He was warm now. So she had better not get any of those temperature swings… He wouldn't be able to do a thing.

* * *

She snuggled into his embrace as she fell asleep listening to the soft thud of his heart beating. It was really something words couldn't quite explain.

She knew that he was watching her as she fell asleep… but it was unpreventable. He always watched her…

* * *

Yawning, Spike opened his eyes. He yelled as sunlight washed over him, waiting to feel the burning.

Buffy was watching him from her spot on his chest with amusement. "Slayer," she reminded him.

He stopped yelling and looked down. There his body was. Half-Bathed in the sunlight, and still not on fire. He smiled. "Well… alrigh' then. I'll just lie here… in the sunlight…"

She laughed at him. "Do you know how damn pale you are? I think we're going to have to get you into a solarium or something when we get home."

"We? Home?"

"Well… But home I meant Sunnydale... but I also had to bring up that you are **_not_** going back to the cemetary. I don't think the crypt would be very suitable, you know… now that you're sort of human and all. And that habit of drinking blood? It has to… slow. The vampire mask is only to ward off enemies. Yes?"

"Yes, mum."

She smacked him on the shoulder. "Don't be a smart ass!"

He chuckled.

"So… I thought that we could go back to Sunnydale tomorrow… after having some fun walking around here today."

Spike nodded, still transfixed by the golden glow of the sunlight. He looked over to her, blessed with the light. Shining like a sun-kissed warrior. "You look like a princess, pet."

She smiled shyly. "Thank you…"

"To think… I fell in love with you… and I had never seen this way that the sun… completes you."

She blushed. "I really… think that…"

"Don't deny it. Just accept it. You are beautiful. I can't believe I missed seeing you like this for so long…"

"With sleep in my eyes and drool tracks down the side of my mouth?" she asked sarcastically. He didn't hear her.

He played with a strand of her hair, warm fingers slowly brushing at her flesh every now and again.

She closed her eyes and lay her head back down on his chest, loving that they could be like this. Together.

"You look lovely even with sleep in your eyes and bad breath, love," he whispered, still stroking her hair.

Her head snapped up. "I never said anything about bad breath, mister."

Spike laughed. For some reason Buffy leant down and brought her lips to his in a third attempt at acceptance. This time, she didn't pull away when he didn't react. She kept trying.

She kissed his closed mouth begging him to kiss her back. He slowly began to respond as she brushed his lips with her tongue.

"You sure you want to dance, Slayer?" he asked her.

She grinned and kissed him more forcefully.

* * *

A/N: I can continue this is I get reviews – and by the way, A huge thankyou to

**spbangel** and **funkydevil206**who have reviewed and kept me going all through this chapter.

Thankyou both so much… I wouldn't have written this chapter without you!


	10. Clifton Beach

**A/N:** Thank you very much to those who reviewed. Again, this chapter wouldn't have been written without you.

Although, as I mentioned in _Five Years Ch2_… Delays are because of the death of my Uncle. If anything sad comes up, it's just me spilling.

**Adainya**: Thank you very much! For both your review **and** your encouragement. It inspires me to write.

**funkydevil206**: Thank you! I hope you like this update.

**ness345**: Thank you! It's funny how ideas just… come to you, you know? I hope you like this chapter!

**Ella**: lol, thanks!

* * *

Spike rolled her so that she was underneath him, settling himself between her thighs as his tongue tangled with hers.

Her nails dug into his back, and he could feel the blood seeping from the small cuts already.

Her legs wrapped around his body as he pressed her into the bed, his arms wrapping around the back of her neck as support. She pulled back panting, a grin creeping up to match her lust filled eyes. His face remained emotionless, causing her to loosen her grasp on him.

"What's wrong?" she whispered, trying to meet his eyes, although, failing.

He didn't answer her for a moment. In the silence, he gathered his thoughts, feeling the fast paced beat of his heart, feeling the way his chest heaved as he panted, feeling something in her that was unfamiliar to him. Just taking a moment to be _able_ to feel at all.

Then he met her eyes, tears filling his own. "I want it to be right. To be… perfect."

Her arms loosened their hold, and she finally realized the dried blood on her fingers. "Did I—"

He smiled. "Yeah. All healed now, though. SlayerVamp, 'member?"

She giggled softly. It was the most beautiful, girlish noise he had ever heard her make.

"Shall we… uh…" He looked down at their two bodies, "Find ourselves some… clothes?"

A door slammed in the room next to theirs as the people left the apartment. The faint sound of a woman laughing and a man groaning faded as they walked away from their apartment. An impish grin took over the slayer's features as she gazed at him.

"You want to steal—"

"We'd only be borrowing!" she whispered, slipping out from under him and walking to the door, duster billowing out behind her.

He smirked and got off the bed, following her to the door. He swung it open, shrieking and backing away from the sunlight.

"You're never getting used to this, huh?" she commented, walking out the door and over to the next apartment, breaking the lock and sauntering in.

His eyes went wide as the casualty of it, but he followed her nonetheless.

She looked up from the drawers she was at and threw him a pair of black board shorts. He caught them and frowned.

"Watta bout togs, luv?" he asked, a smirk forming.

She shrugged and walked past him, whispering sweetly in his ear as she passed, "What about them?"

His eyes went wide and he looked at her with a bewildered expression. She pulled out a black bikini and smiled to herself. "Perfect."

She picked a dress out of the wardrobe and threw him a white singlet.

"Wha's this?"

"Your outfit for today."

* * *

"Don't you dare laugh."

"Oh… no promises…" she said, waiting for him to vacate the bathroom.

"Gee, thanks." He walked out and her jaw dropped. The board shorts were a perfect size... but the singlet was another matter completely. It was about a size or two too small, hugging his chest, proving his fitness.

_Ooh. Yummy…_ "Looks good," she nodded. _Stop drooling…_ "My turn."

She barely knew what she had picked out. She waltzed into the bathroom and looked at the swimmers. Shrugging, she stripped off the remainder of her clothes and threw it on.

_Uh oh…_

She looked at the bottoms. They were small. By small, they were hugging her ass like there was no tomorrow.

She looked at the top and sighed. It was a halter… but it was so tight… her breasts were what Faith would call **'up and in'**. In other words… it appeared that she had massive boobs. Oh well. It was a nice illusion.

She pulled the simple, light, black cotton dress on over the top and admired her reflection. Not bad.

She raked her fingers through her hair and opened the door.

He nodded approvingly, taking her hand and tugging lightly. "Can we go to the beach?" A boyish look appeared on his face, forcing her to smile.

"How about we go home? To Sunnydale? Then we can go to a beach…"

A disappointed look crossed his features.

"We could… go somewhere... else?" she suggested, raising her eyebrows.

He smiled. It was so beautiful. It felt as though the whole room had lit up at that one moment. And it forced her to smile with him.

"Like where?" he asked.

For a moment, she thought. She knew he was trying to read what she was thinking…

"Clifton Beach?" She shrugged at his blank look. "It has a really beautiful beach. And it's not far… well it is, but it's not as far as Sunnydale at the moment… and they'd have nicer accommodation than here…"

He chuckled. "Better call ole Ripper then, aye luv? Ask for some cash and all that. Tell him to stop by the crypt. I got me some."

She raised an eyebrow. "Some what?"

"Money. We need to convert it… you know. So we can _spend_ it here?"

Her mouth formed the shape of an 'o' and she looked down. "I don't have much of that…"

"S'okay, pet. I got a fair bit. Winnings an' all that."

She stepped backwards. "From what?"

"Poker… an'… from a few…" he swallowed and glanced away. "Victims…"

"It's in the past, Spike. Everything is different now…"

He nodded. "Yeah… so. Anyway. Clifton, you say?"

"Well… it's got beaches —"

"Say no more. We're off." He picked her up and swung her over his shoulder.

She squealed, clinging onto his shirt. "I have…" she beat at his back a little, "To call…" she squealed again in mock frustration, "Giles!"

He chuckled and slapped her butt. "Course, sweet." He dropped her on the ground and raised his eyebrows.

Her eyes went wide. "And I will do that… now." She nodded to herself and walked into the next room, picking up the phone and dialing Giles' Sunnydale number.

* * *

"He says that everything is peachy down there. Apparently they have 'help'…" she shrugged. "He's transferring a bit of money for us… and he said he'd go to the crypt… to… steal all your money…"

"I know exactly how much was there. If we get any less, I'll eat him."

"No you won't…" She raised an eyebrow in doubt.

"Hey, just because I'm all human-like and that, doesn't mean I can't eat the fellow if he don't give me my money."

She smiled. "Okay, Spike. Whatever."

He sighed. "My 'big bad' image has completely demolished, huh?"

She giggled and nodded.

"Thought so."

"But on the up side, you are stronger than anyone in the world…"

His eyes lit up. "Even you?"

She flushed, "Well… until we do the blood-mixy thing… and you're a slayer now… and… really… strong… until we…"

He laughed and she pouted.

"Don't patronize me," she whimpered.

"Aw, Summers. I could never —"

"You just did."

He smiled and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her temple. "I'm sorry…"

She grinned triumphantly. "Thank you."

She sighed and stepped back out of his embrace. He frowned and raised his scarred eyebrow at her.

"I can't do the… being-close-to-you thing at the moment… not while I'm—"

"Feeling something different?" he suggested.

"Yes…" She met his gaze. "Will you stop doing that? Stop feeling me…" she grimaced, he smirked. "That came out _so_ wrong."

"Only if you're us," he said with a laugh.

"Topic change," she decided, "Help me out here?"

"We leave for Clifton in five hours, savvy?"

"Savvy?"

"Just agree, pet."

She grinned. "Clifton in five hours," she saluted, "You got it."

* * *

A/N: There's the next chapter. _Please_ review if you like it. Any suggestions are welcome. 


	11. A little Swim

**A/N:** Ah! I have such plans for this fiction now!

**funkydevil206**: I'm glad you liked it!  
**spbangel**: Thank you! I'm glad you're liking it!

* * *

"Gah! I'm sick of this! Can we stop somewhere?" Buffy whined, slowly walking along the highway. "Or hitchhike a ride and eat the driver? You'd be wonderful at that!" 

Spike chuckled and shook his head. He stopped and crouched down. "Hop on."

She jumped gleefully and swung her legs over his shoulders, keeping her balance by putting her hands on the top of his head. He stood back up easily. The SlayerVamp thing was such a bonus.

"Alright. So… Clifton. Did you call somewhere to… change the money?" she asked, wobbling a bit from her spot on him. He held her ankles, walking steadily.

"I called ol' Rupert when you were in the loo. He's changed it all to Rand. And he booked us accommodation, too. Beautiful, it is…" he said. "Nibblet and Red are staying together on Revello… an'… uh… somethin' about… having faith to… I don't know…"

"He's going to get Faith to Slay…" she clarified, "The other Slayer…"

"Ah…" he nodded, rolling his shoulders slightly.

"Too heavy?"

"Not at all, sweet. Just a tad to the left…" she moved to the left. "Perfect."

"So…How long until we get there?" she asked, running her hands through his hair.

"Uh…" he glanced around and sniffed at the air. "We're on… uh…"

"We just got on Victoria Road," she stated, bouncing a little.

He groaned. "No bouncing, love."

She blushed. "Sorry."

"Now, we're on Victoria Road, you say? Well, then we're getting close. The place we're staying is on Victoria Road. Right near the beach. Watcher said he'd pay for it an' all… so we're here as long as we'd like…" he chuckled. "Hey, you can leave now and I'll stay here by myself."

"I don't think so, mister. I can't have you—"

She stopped talking and stiffened.

"What?" he looked up at her.

"You know… only days ago… you were still… dead. And… You… were in love with me… and you weren't allowed in my house… and… and… and…" Emotion hit her like an unexpected steam train. She sobbed softly, a few of her tears dripping off her cheek and falling onto his nose.

"Aw… baby…" he swung her around into his arms and embraced her. "I still do…" he whispered to her, "I still am."

She cried into his wife beater, creating a small wet patch over his nipple. "Still… Still am what?" she asked, taking in deep breaths in attempt to calm herself.

He sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "I'm still in love with you, Buffy."

"Really?"

When she looked at him, he saw all her vulnerabilities. Everything that could crush her. What he could say or do that could break her. And it just made him fall in love with her all over again.

He smiled at her and wiped her tears away.

"I'll always be in love with you. You… you're the one. The woman. The person I've been waiting for… all my damn life… or unlife as I have it… Being human… or whatever the hell I am? That doesn't change things in the slightest…" he murmured to her. "Shall we get off to this apartment now?"

She wiped her tears away hastily. Roughly. _Violently_.

"No…" he whispered, taking her hands in his own. He reached up gently, and picked up a tear on his thumb. "This?" he showed her the droplet. He chuckled and licked it off his finger. "It's you. It's beautiful."

She giggled. "Thank you…"

"Well. I was being serious… but if that's all it takes to turn you to bloody mush, I might do it more often…" she smacked his arm. He surrendered. "Fine. Now… How bout… the last one that gets to White Cliffs has to…" he thought about it for a moment, "Has to do a nude swim in the pool. Completely starkers."

Her eyes widened. "But… I don't even know the way! And what if there is no pool?"

"I don't know the way either, pudding. But I know what the apartment's got…"

"It has a pool? A… private pool?" she asked, her face lighting up.

"It has a private pool… three bedrooms…Gourmet Kitchen… barbeque facilities… an elevator to the door… after all… it is a Luxury Penthouse…" he said, shrugging.

"Luxury… Oh my god! That's… oh my god!" She grinned from ear to ear. His heart sang at the expression on her face. She looked like a teenager again. "Let's go!"

Of course, Buffy got the head start… Spike, being as powerful as he was would have beaten her too easily had the case been different. He was going to settle for beating her by a few feet.

After she was half a mile in front of him, he took chase, easily catching her. She sprinted to keep up with him. He jogged to stay near her.

No sooner was the building in front of them had he reached the entrance and casually leant against it, had the automatic door opened, causing him to fall inside.

She finally caught up and saw him on the ground, laughing hysterically.

"Spike! Modern day doors – automatic!" she snorted.

He grumbled something about the nineteenth century before following her inside. She sashayed up to the front desk and flashed them her happy smile.

"Hello. We have a booking in the Luxury Penthouse under the name of…" she glanced at Spike who mouthed Giles, "Giles."

"Ah. Yes. You have no… luggage?" the man at the front desk asked her, his gaze travelling over her body.

"Not yet," she kept smiling, "But by the time this trip is over? I'm gonna have suitcases full."

He was looking at her chest, where her swimsuit was pressing her breasts together, giving her 'big boob' illusion negative aspects.

"Found somethin' you like?" Spike asked from beside her, raising his eyebrows.

The man didn't move.

Buffy coughed. "Sleaze."

He kept looking at her chest.

Spike grinned evilly, pulling her over to him, wrapping one arm under hers and holding his hand under her breast, the other resting on her stomach. He stuck out his tongue and licked a line up the side of her neck. She moaned appreciatively, arching back into him. He smirked, looking to the receptionist. "Can we have the keys to our room now, you soddin' piece of—"

"Sure…" He snapped out of his daze and handed over some leaflets and vouchers, and gave them two key cards. "Take the elevator to the top level. It… It's only accessible by the key cards… and… you have two of the three…"

"Who has the third?" Spike asked, tilting his head, softly kneading Buffy's breast with a second nature.

The man swallowed, "Uh… no-one at the moment. It's under the desk here." He reached under the desk and pulled it up to show Spike.

"We'll take that too," Spike nodded. "Thanks… _mate_."

Buffy leaned back into him, closing her eyes as she rubbed up against him.

"Oi, Summers…" he whispered, "You owe me a nude swim."

Her eyes snapped open and she jumped away. "I'm sorry?"

"Uh… Mr. and Mrs. Giles? Could you move so I can serve this family?" the man asked, handing them their things and nodding to the elevator.

Buffy smiled at him, read his nametag and skipped over to the elevators. "Thanks, Frankie! I have to go have a nude swim now." She grinned brightly as the elevator doors opened.

Frank, the receptionist, swallowed and glanced at Spike, who was looking at Buffy almost hungrily as he followed her into the elevator.

Buffy gave him a cheeky smile, pressing the top button in the elevator and watching the doors close. "So… you want me to swim in our pool naked. What time would this be at?" she asked, tilting her head to the side innocently.

"Preferably before sunset. Then I'd be enjoying two of the most spectacular things in the world on the same night," he whispered as he pressed her into the wall and continued his earlier task of licking her neck.

"I'm not a thing, Spike…" she told him between moans. The elevator announced their floor in a mechanical voice, causing her to jump. She looked at him with her eyebrows raised and plucked one of the key cards out of his hands.

She smiled saucily, sliding the black cotton dress she had stolen down her body. She stepped out of it and padded to the room in her tiny swim suit, pushing the key card in and out of the door.

As she opened it, she looked to him and gave him an innocent flutter of her eyelashes. "Stop drooling, Spike…" she whispered, before stepping into the apartment.

He grinned and picked up her dress, taking in one long whiff as he stalked towards the door. He swung it open mercilessly. His eyes widened when he saw the room. Or one of.

The Penthouse stole over three hundred and sixty degrees of views, all the way around the apartment. Buffy stood at the poolside, dipping a toe into the water.

He grinned at her, tilting his head.

Her swimsuit bottoms did up at the sides by two lycra strings, which were tied in bows. The top did up almost the same. A bow was tied at the back, and around her neck. She looked over to him warily.

"What if people watch me..." she asked, gazing out to the road directly below the hotel.

"They'llbe condemned to a lifetime of knowing what they have is never enough," he scoffed, following her gaze. He watched the blush creep into her complexion. He smiled out of pride that he could still do that to her.

She sighed. "Stay." He had begun to walk towards the pool, stopping at the doorway at her command.

_You're wipped now, Spikey..._ A voice in his head sang.

He growled as she undid her bikini top, letting it flutter to the ground. They had left a red print around her breasts because of the force.

And still, he was intrigued. The final rays of sunlight played against her tan skin. His eyes danced with the patterns, longing to step over to her and pull her into his embrace.

She reached down to the strings that attached each side of her bottoms together and tugged. The strings undid, and the material joined its top.

She stood before him now, naked. Shining at him in the sunset. He couldn't speak now if he wanted to. He swallowed and looked up to her eyes. She blinked, turning away and readying herself for the dive into the pool.

She bounced on her toes once, her breasts bouncing at the movement. Then she dove. Her fingers plunged gracefully into the water's dark blue depths, her head following, then her breasts and ass. Her feet were the last to enter, smoothly, and delicately.

She barely even stirred the water with her presence.

When she emerged, she pushed her hair out of her face, slicking it back and treading the water.

"Are you joining me?" she asked softly, innocently.

He swallowed again and straightened his posture, careful to hide his evident arousal.

* * *

"Are you joining me?" she asked, watching him swallow and straighten, his erection obvious to both her and him.

She remembered his age. He was almost a hundred and thirty years old. He wouldn't know modern day tricks. He didn't even know the automatic entrance door.

"Help me out then?" she asked at his hesitation.

He nodded and walked over to her, reaching out a hand to help her out of the pool.

She grinned and took his hand, pulling lightly and watching as he tumbled into the dark blue water with a shriek of "Bloody Hell!"

She put on her best innocent face and gazed at him. "Oh look. You've got me in the pool. Naked and wet. What _will_ you do with me?" she asked, tilting her head as she tread water.

He pulled the white singlet over his head and tossed it onto the deck. It landed with a wet thud. He then looked hungrily in her direction and nodded to himself, shrugging in her direction. "We'll see..."

* * *

**A/N:** Review for continuation... 


	12. Do I have you

**A/N:** Thank you all for your reviews - I just re-read this story, and I realised why I wrote it in the first place. Because I love it!

**spbangel:** Thank you! So much!  
**Adainya:** Not dreaming at all.  
**LoveHieiRine:** Thankyou! I'll do my best to write as much more as I can!

Read on! And don't you dare forget to review!

* * *

She had to admit, the look in his eyes was both exciting and dangerous. She hadn't seen him like this since he'd been trying to kill her, and even then... he hadn't looked half as concentrated on the subject. 

The water moved like a current as he slowly made his way over to her. She felt her heart speed up as she gazed into those beautiful blue gems of his.

He finally reached where she was standing, stopping right before her with a small, predatory smirk upon his face. She blinked twice, tilting her head innocently, behaving much like the BuffyBot.

"Buffy..." he whispered, a smile appearing on his face before he ducked under the water.

She frowned. She knew very well that he could hold his breath for as long as he wanted because of his new human-vampire state. She looked down, squealing as he hooked her legs over his shoulders and plunged his tongue into her pussy.

"Oh my god..." she moaned, swallowing and pressing forward into him.

He stood, raising her further into the air, so that she had a nice view of the street below, and they had a nice view of her. Naked.

"No! Spike, no!" she squealed, hitting at his head, shuddering quickly afterwards as he reached up and stroked her naked breast.

"What seems to be the matter, kitten?" he purred, swirling his tongue around her inner thigh.

"Those people on the street. Oh god! He's looking at me! That son of a bitch is looking at my boobs. Put me down! Put me down, Spike!"

He grinned and looked up at her. "You're such a prude, Summers. Let 'em look. It's not like he's gettin' any when _he_ gets home."

She glanced down at him wide-eyed. "Spike, this is not some perverted old man I'm talking about! This is some guy thats about my age! Staring at my goods as if I'm in some sort of porn magazine."

That did the job. Spike dropped her into the water, swimming over to the edge and climbing out quickly, stomping across the wooden floor to the railing where he looked down to the street to see a tall, handsome, dark haired guy staring up at him.

"What are you staring at, wanker?" Spike hollered down onto the street. The punk kid simply grinned widely and started walking away. "Oh, no you don't..." Spike muttered, heading off in the direction on the front door, "We're going to have a confrontation, buddy."

Spike then realised that he had that super human thing going for him. Grinning like a madman, he turned back around and sprinted to the railing, ignoring Buffy's scream as he stepped on it and jumped off ofit, hurtling to the ground at neck breaking speed in a still standing position.

By this time, the kid had turned back around after hearing Buffy's scream, staring in horror at the half naked Spike who had just jumped off the top floor balcony.

Oh god how he wished he was wearing his leather duster and black outfit at the moment. This would prove to be one of the most menacing entrances that Spike had ever made. Ever.

Instead, he landed on the ground in a squatting position, with his head slightly bowed as he had be taught in the 30's by Angelus.

_"If you ever decide to jump off a building, lad, don't forget not to lock yer knees, and to bow yer head. Otherwise yer gonna end up with far more injuries than necessary. And I don' feel like scraping ya up off the pavement."_

Standing upright again, he stalked over to where the kid was standing, his jaw dropped to the floor and his eyes wide in horror.

Buffy was standing up, hanging over the railing to check if he was okay, so he spared her a glance and nodded reassuringly. Then he turned straight back to the kid glaring.

"Oi, Bobby. Or what ever the soddin' hell your name is. You even glance up at that railing and I'll snap your head. And don't you think I'm kidding," Spike smirked, "I've done far worse."

"I swear... Mister... I didn't... She was just..."

"She's bloody perfect, ay?" Spike asked, with a tilt of his head. "Don't you dare lie to me. I know if your lying. I can hear it. Vampire."

"She's amazing... I know! I'm sorry! She looks like a playboy model! I couldn't help but stare!" the kid swore, eyes still wide. "But, I know you aren't a vampire..." he smiled nervously at Spike. "I've faught vampires. They can't come out in sunlight..."

Spike glared at the kid for a moment longer, before morphing into his vampire mask. "Not a bloody vampire? Mate, I'm the sodding messiah of vampires. You can't get _any_ more powerful than me in this world. Now why don't you run off home to your initiative buddies or somethin', and I'll run up stairs to visit my Slayer friend. Savvy?"

The kid made a fish, opening and closing his mouth as if trying to find a way to respond.

"What is it with the Americans?" Spike huffed. "Savvy? It means okay. Spread the news, because you're making me pissy, yeah?"

Nodding, the little American boy tripped over his feet as he fled from Spike, not once glancing back.

Spike chuckled and glanced up at the veranda, where Buffy had disappeared from. His keen eyesight picked up on the glint of a small shiny piece of plastic on the ground out of the corner of his eye. He walked over and picked it up, turning it over and seeing, "White Cliffs Penthouse" written on the top in a gold block font. Smirking, he looked back to their apartment. Then he wondered over to the entrance of the hotel and walked in, past Frank the receptionist and over to the elevator, where he hopped in and went to their floor, swiping the keycard and entering the apartment.

When he opened the door, a small note crinkled under his foot. He grinned and picked it up, reading, _'Track me. Have me.'_ on it.

His smile spread, and he sniffed the air, following her sweet musky scent to the main bedroom, which he entered slowly, willing himself to calm down, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

"Slay-er..." he called softly, tracking her scent out the glass door to the thinner part of the balcony, which he walked down until he reached the pool. At first, he thought his nose had led him to the wrong place, but then he looked past the pool to the railing, which he'd jumped off not half an hour prior.

Just below the railing, on the safer side, there was a ledge, about twenty-five metres long, made of a smooth, marbly looking concrete. Buffy was sunbaking on it, her arms beside her, her hands flat on the concrete, her knees bent, and her legs spread wide, exposing her pussy to anyone on Victoria Road.

Her breasts were full, and moving as she breathed in and out. For a moment, he marveled at her beauty. Then the strain of his erection became too much. He quietly took off his board shorts, making barely enough noise for it to register in his acute hearing, let alone her own ordinary.

Then he walked silently over to wear she lay, bathed in the afternoon sunlight. He peered down to the street, seeing the American boy down the street, looking at Spike curiously. Spike shrugged to himself. Why not let the kid have something to sight-see on his holiday? He beckoned to him, raising his eyebrows teasingly. He'd show that boy playboy.

The boy had already taken a seat on the low wall that separated the beach from the road.

Spike smiled evilly at him, placing one hand beside Buffy's shoulder, careful not to rouse her of his presence. He glanced one more time at the street, to see the kid shooing away some old African guy, in attempt at keeping Spike's extra-curricular activities private. Spike smiled thankfully at the kid, before using his super-speed to swing over Buffy, brace himself and enter her in one swift stroke, without her even registering the shadow he had cast, blocking the sunlight.

She opened her eyes with a loud moan, moving her hands to his chest and scratching her nails downward, grating his skin.

"Surprise..." he panted, thrusting in and out of her quickly, trying to bring them both the release they had been waiting for, for days.

"Oh god... so... big... so... damn... good." She gasped in air, tilting her head back, and willing his lips towards hers. Her thighs clamped tightly around him, her feet locking around his

He reached down and licked her nipple before coming back up and kissing her hungrily, still pounding inside her, getting faster.

"Oh... harder, Spike... so much harder... please..."

He could never deny a lady. He pounded into her harder, trying to please her. Trying to get her to say his name like that again.

"Ahh... Spike... oh god... tell me again... tell me again... that... you..." she faded off with an 'unh' as he hit her spot, moaning with a smile on her face.

"I love you, Buffy. Love you so much... Love you more... than anyone... any_thing_... in this world... love you so, so much... you're... so beautiful, so perfect... I love you..." he babbled, his mouth next to her ear, his words coming out husky, curtained with sex.

"Oh God!" Buffy screamed, "Spike!" as she came, her head tilting back, and her back arching as she tensed all her muscles, sharp tremors running through her body. Seeing her like that... with his name on her lips, with that look of completeness... ofpure bliss on her face, with her golden skin shimmering in the remaining sunlight as the sun itself set, was enough to pull him to the edge and bring him to his orgasm.

"Buffy... oh Buffy..." he moaned as he released the final spurt of his load into her. He heard the applause of the kid from down on the road, gathering enough energy to turn and smirk masterfully at the kid, stopped applauding, shaking his head slightly before he walked away, with a slight wave.

Buffy got up, leaning on her elbows, sucking his earlobe into her mouth. She played with it with her tongue for a while, before letting it out of her mouth. "Found my note?"

He grinned at her, pulling out of her and leaning back in to kiss her softly on the lips. "I did indeed, princess. Do I?"

She frowned. "Do you what?"

"Do I have you?"

* * *

A/N: Ah! I have to end it there, because I'm heading off on holidays for two weeks now! But I'm going to write manually for you while I'm away, so never fear!

My sites working now, so there's something for you to check out and hassle me for improvements.

Please review. PLEASE


	13. Desperate to Show it

**A/N: **Well, I lied, I didn't write nearly enough of this. I haven't updated since April, and I haven't thought about it for longer. I'm sincerily sorry. I've been trying to figure out exactly what to include in this chapter, and thanks to a great friend of mine - AmethystDragon81, I can write it.

**spbangel: **Aw, Thank you! I wish that they could make movies of many of the fictions I read... not necessarily this one though. Not really all that fond of it, but I'm so grateful that someone does.  
**AmethystDragon81:** You're awesome. I owe you everthing for inspiring me to write. Thank you.  
**sexyspike:** Thank you! I hope you like this one as much.  
**SweetPrincess4eva: **I'm so glad you like it! You're review was so appreciated!

Very strong, quite graphic, sexual references in this chapter. You may not want to read it. "R"

On with the chapter, I say.

--

Silence. Hanging between them like an awkward fog, thick and heavy, killing both of them. As soon as the words had left his mouth, he had regretted asking them. The air within a five mile radius was now tainted with Spike's inability to have poise.

As a lone tear slowly trickled down Buffy's cheek, Spike's eyes fell to the ground. He knew he shouldn't burden her with questions like that. He forced a smile, moving across to his shorts, which he picked up and slowly slid on. "No worries, gorgeous..."

She had curled herself into a ball, timidly looking at him as he moved, eyes not looking at him, but past him, as fear began to strike her.

"May just shoot down for a beer. Find me a pub first. Haven't really tasted the stuff in centuries. I'll come back... later."

Then he was gone. She watched him step off the veranda and heard him land below moments later with a small 'thud'.

Buffy sat still, as full realisation hit her. More tears came streaming down her cheeks... as she realised the truth.

And the truth was, that yes. Yes he did have her. Only and completely. He'd had her since she returned from the grave, but she was too scared to admit it. Every moment had been a falsely created atmosphere, that she had been only too willing to accept.

But now that she knew. The extent of her feelings, how far she was willing to fall for him, the fear was slowly evaporating. The fog was beginning to clear.

--

Hours after Spike had left her, Buffy moved. She slowly stood, picked up the swimsuit and tied the bikini top on. She also slipped on the dress that he had dropped by the door on their arrival. She began to walk towards the bedroom, when she decided that she had to tell him.

He had to know how she felt. She knew he was probably broken... _shattered_ by not what she had said, but what she hadn't said to him hours ago.

Pulling the bikini bottoms on, and doing the sides in little bows, she walked to the elevator, with her keycard safely tucked into the tiny tiny pocket on the inside of the hem of her dress.

She made it as far as a bar before she knew where he was. Slipping inside without much notice, she saw him standing by the bar, gazing into a glass of beer.

"He's been like that for about four hours..." someone whispered to her.

She span around and came eye to eye with the boy who had been watching her on the street earlier that day.

She glanced at Spike, then back at the boy. "What do you mean?"

The guy shrugged. "He came in here, and I followed him. He ordered a beer, and when it was given to him... he just looked at it. He hasn't really done anything since. Even when that swimsuit model came up and offered him a free... uh... nevermind. But he's just been standing there."

"I'll fix it..." she smiled, eyes locked on Spike as she walked to him and pressed herself into his back. She listened to the music playing in the background, and looked to the small mosh pit that a few people had created. She let out a small laugh. Who danced to Linkin Park like _that._

In time with the music, she began to dance, making sure her body never left his. His back was bare - he hadn't put his singlet back on.

Widening her smile, Buffy ran her hands up and down his back, and along his arms. Threading her fingers through his, she made his arms move with hers, trailing his hands over his chest and abdomen, and grinding into him at the same time.

Her hips were doing a dance of their own, showing his ass a great time. She slid up and down his body, leaning in as close as she could to him, flattening her boobs against his smooth back and whispering quietly...

--

Spike knew she was there. Oh hell, he knew as soon as she'd entered. Listened to her whole damn conversation with little Billy, and felt as she'd come closer.

His breathing had quickened when he felt her press up against him - that was when he'd began to hear the music playing. Bloody rock music too. She was writhing against him, her hands covering his as she felt him.

He felt her lean in as close as possible and whisper softly into his ear...

--

"Yeah... You have me."

Seconds later, she'd been spun around. Pressed into the wall to the left of her, with her ankles locked behind him as his lips found hers and made bruising contact.

His kiss was hungry, needy. She kissed back with equal passion, willing him to devour her.

With his groin pressed into hers, she began moving against him, desperate to achieve her climax.

He groaned, thrusting at her almost frantically. His mouth left hers for a moment, and when he looked at her, she saw that he had slipped into vampire mask.

It was the passion, she figured. Whenever he was overwhelmed, he couldn't control the vampire mask. And that was now.

She smiled saucily at him and pulled him in roughly to kiss her, showing him how much she truly accepted him.

She continued to ride him, dry humping him. Her bikini bottoms were as wet as though she'd dove into the pool with them on. She ran her tongue over his fangs, and felt the light cuts leak blood soon after.

Her tongue snaked into his mouth then, and fed him the blood she had drawn. He continued to kiss her, still heartily aware of his vampire face. His fangs running roughly over her lip, slicing fine lines over it and drawing more blood.

As he tried to pull away, she held him to her, thighs clamping tighter around him, riding him harder and faster, massaging that one spot that she really needed him to touch.

His hands were occupied, however, one running all over her body, up and down, over and around, and the other bracing himself against the wall, which his fingers were pressing so hard against that it was beginning to crack.

"Unh..." she moaned loudly, rolling her pelvis against his, still sucking his face. It was messy, and it was real, and it was truly what she needed.

She was coming to the edge. But she knew he would catch her when she fell. And she knew how sappy it was, and how much it was to expect, but he would. He always would.

She pressed against him harder, bouncing and thrusting with him as though she were riding a horse. She begain to feel hot, and tingly, and thats when she knew it was coming.

He moaned again, with her this time, never breaking their continuous kiss.

She breathed through her nose, not recieving enough air, but not caring. She would pass out if she had to. This was too good to break.

"Mmm..." she gasped, blood from her lip dripping onto her chin, and being smudged by Spike's tongue as he lapped it up.

She knew he would have pulled away a million times, especially now, but she held him to her, and forced him to keep going.

If she wasn't breaking it, neither was he.

Her tongue ran through his mouth, and duelled with his, determined to give him everything.

She was ready now, thrusting with him, bouncing, grinding, squeezing... and finally coming. She pulled back from him, and for a moment his eyes snapped open in horror, thinking she was to leave him like this... before he noticed the look on her flushed face.

His head instantly dipped her her neck, sucking on the tender skin he found, and memorising every sound she made.

She made a small screaming, moaning, squealing sound, thrusting faster against him. He obliged her by pressing her harder to the wall and sucking harder on her neck, his fangs piercing the skin. As he sucked on the blood that leaked from the tiny, tiny pricks he made, she reached up and pushed his head into her neck, puncturing two holes and a small ring from his teeth.

The demon in him came out on top of the soul, and on top of his human and drank from her.

He controlled it easily, but the passion was too strong.

He convulsed as he drank from her, a muffled yell into her shoulder.

She vibrated against him for moments, before falling almost completely limp. His hand that had been supporting him against the wall was now through it, fist clenched around a piece of wall-plaster-turned-dust. His head leaned into the wall that was still there, and he let the dust fall to the ground.

The both stood, panting, not allowing the other to leave. He felt Buffy swallow, and she felt him shaking.

She pulled his head away from her shoulder, and gently looked into his eyes.

She saw the shock behind his eyes and her own widened.

"Wait..." she smiled disbelievingly, her mouth scoffing a little, "Did you just..."

He gulped and raised his eyebrows.

"You really...?"

He nodded a little, and she paused, looking down at their locked bodies and back up to him.

"We... and you... and you're experi... and..."

He nodded again, afraid of her laughing at him, hoping she wasn't talking about what she was actually talking about.

She leaned in close to him, trying to confirm her own suspicions. "Spike... did you just come?"

He slowly let her drop to the ground and inched away from her, embarassed of his schoolboy tolerance for her.

She could make him do anything... and she'd just proven that she could make him come in his own pants. It wasn't something a man wanted to admit.

She stood still and gaped at him, blood still smeared over her chin, staining her lips.

He opened his mouth and muttered, "When you get all hot like that... and when you... _do_ that... any man... would..."

Her mouth covered his again and kissed him, tongue running across his lip. He stood dumbly, uncomfortable in his sticky pants, letting her take him again.

"Oh my god, Spike..." she gasped, peppering kisses all over his lips, cupping his cheeks with her hands. "Fucking hell..." she breathed, licking his lips. "Oh my god, I love you." She opened her eyes and concentrated on his face.

He blinked at her.

"I love you... oh my god! I'm so in love with you I think I'm going to die. Will you just kiss me?" she gasped, leaning in again.

He pulled away roughly. Her eyes widened in fear. Damn, she was so tired of being afraid.

But Spike felt it. The passion and the love, and he picked her up again, her thighs tightening around him as he led them back to the penthouse. They both really needed a swim...

--

**A/N: **And, cue end chapter. Only a few more chapters of this story. One, two, maybe three. Suggest anything, it's all welcome. Hope you like this story.

I do love reviews, but only if you have time. I hope you found that chapter good.


	14. Three Seconds

A/N: I've sort of lost my inspiration to write. I dont really know why, but I'm hoping it will come back to me soon.

**AmethystDragon81, ness345, s, LoveHiei-Rine, houndofhellia, leia - **Hey guys, i know that every message I send out to you is going to be the same, so I thought I'd just make it one huge apology. I'm so so sorry, I haven't updated this since September, so I will completely understand if no-one has the urge to read on.

My largest apologies go to you all, because you took the time and effort to inspire me, and to give me that small urge to write on. The only reason I write now is for you... and to find that spirit of writing again.

--

"Would you mind?" she asked him softly, delicately placing one hand in his. Spike looked down at the ground before meeting her gaze again.

"Everything would be so different. We haven't been back in a while... I mean, Buffy, weeks have gone past. Do you really think that every_one _would be the same?"

A shaky sigh escaped her lips.

Looking into her eyes, with a finger under her chin, he leant in close to her and whispered, "If you want to go back, we'll go back, okay?"

She smiled gently, "Only if you're sure. I don't mean to contradict myself or whatever, but people might not want us back... together, if you get what I mean..."

Spike chuckled, leaning in that little bit further and capturing her lips in that familiar way that they seemed to have grown accustomed to over the past few weeks.

She moaned, her heart fluttering like a schoolgirl's. Then she began to feel warm. It was a pleasant warmth, filling her competely, making her feel as though everything was right. But then she grew hotter, and hotter, to the point that she thought that she may possibly have caught fire.

Her eyes snapped open and she hastily pushed Spike backwards as she turned and made a sprint for the cool, icy pool. Without grace, or any sort of intended jump, she fell into the pool in attempt to cool herself down. Her head began to ache in a way that it hadn't before, and the original throbbing in her arm returned. Spike ran to the edge of the pool, a puzzled look on his face.

With a loud scream tearing through her lungs, pain that she had never before felt ripped through her entire being. She pulled herself up to the edge of the pool and gagged, for what seemed to her to have been hours, but to Spike, only seconds.

Without waiting for her to get out, he rushed over and pulled her out, cradling her against his chest. "Buffy... my Buffy," he whispered, running inside, to a bedroom, where he lay her down and watched helplessly as she convulsed on the bed. He hovered nearby, torn between finding a phone to call Giles, and staying to help Buffy, in any way that he could.

She gritted her teeth together and forced her body to calm down. Taking deep, harsh breaths she turned purposefully towards Spike.

"Cut... my hand..." she hissed at him, nodding at her own words, as though she didn't think they'd come out right.

Frowning, Spike began to shake his head. Buffy shook her own, with great effort, telling him not to argue.

The second he left the room, he felt a pang of emptiness, but he managed to drag himself to the kitchen to take out a rather large butchers knife. It suddenly dawned on him as he raced back into the bedroom that she wanted to do it. Not in a sexual way, or any pleasureful way. She wanted to fulfill the prophecy, and to end the terror that had become her life.

With a large grunt, he sliced a smooth line across his palm, bloody instantly making a crimson slit in the knife's path. The pain was dull, compared to what it would have been to a mortal being, but it was still there.

Leaning in close to Buffy, he pressed a light kiss to her forehead as he drew first lightly over her own palm with the knife, showing her it was there. Quickly, and as smoothly as possible, he cut her hand and pressed his into hers, clasping their hands together, and threading their fingers through each others.

A layer of sweat shined over her body, and Spike watched helplessly as she tossed and convulsed on the bed. He held her hand tighter, until his began to shake. A tear slid down his cheek, and for three long seconds, Buffy Summer's body went completely limp.

Spike's eyes widened, and as though hours had passed, horror overtook his entire body.

Then she gasped, loudly, a gasp of a person who had been underwater testing the absolute limit that they could hold their breath until their lungs begged for mercy.

She sat up fast, eyes wide, hand beginning to tighten its hold on Spike's.

Tighter, tighter, until _crack._ Spike frowned and looked down at his hand, which was bent in an angle that _nothing_ was meant to bend.

The lack of pain was a gift. He sighed pleasantly, detatching his hand from hers and flexing it, so that it was in perfect alignment with his body again. Without words, she leaned in close and pressed her lips to his.

"You saved me," she chuckled.

He didn't smile. He had stopped paying attention when she sat up. When she came back to life. Again. He had lost her. Again. And he could have done so many things to have saved her, he could have tried so many ways... Again.

For the longest three seconds of his entire life, unlife and immortal life again, he had lost the love of his life.

Tears slid out of his eyes and he pulled her towards him, kneeling with her in his arms on the bed as he sobbed to her, grieving his loss of her, to her.

She began to laugh, choking on her own tears as she pressed her lips to his over and over, in a continuous cycle, hands running through his hair and over his face.

"You saved me," she cried, leaning in and wrapping her arms around him.

He nodded, biting his lip.

Pulling her even closer to him, he made a vow, that if ever Buffy Summers was in danger again, be it for three seconds in deciding how to remove something from the oven, three minutes in fighting a vampire, or three days for _whatever_ reason, he would save her, or he would **die** trying.

--

A/N: gotta end it there. I'm going to try update some of my others soon too. thanks for being so patient.


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